


esurient

by poise



Series: where the odds lie [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, M/M, The Capitol (Hunger Games), Very Metaphorical, excessive descriptions, oddly poetic (or attempted), word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poise/pseuds/poise
Summary: Renjun and Jaemin don’t always see eye to eye.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Series: where the odds lie [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889089
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	esurient

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically “ren thoughts at 3 am.” i wasn’t quite sure i was going to post this because this is 1.7K words of me just writing down what comes to mind. this is just a small teaser of a much larger fic i’m writing and its a markhyuck fic so you’ll understand what goes on through donghyuck’s mind !!

The silence is static, unnerving in a way he cannot explain as it unravels over time.

Renjun feels the way it punctures through the thick skin of his chest and into his lungs. It grapples his heart, weaving a thick vine along its veins. This is a feeling he knows, intimately. He welcomes it with open arms.

“We are monsters.” He says. There is truth in his words that no one can deny. He says it like an accusation but points no fingers. 

The absence of fear in Jaemin’s eyes is resolute and he accepts it. Renjun wishes he could say the same about himself but his tendency to vacillate keeps him as static as the silence before. 

“We are better.” Jaemin finally says. 

He is peering out past their window and into the street below. His eyes linger on the celebration thrown for the winner of this year’s Games.

It is times like this when Renjun wonders if Jaemin knows the weight of his own words.

  
  
  
  
  


Renjun meets his new client on a hot summer evening. 

The heat is strong enough to penetrate through the concrete walls of Renjun’s boutique and he is ready to close up shop for the day in favor of an early dinner. Business is slow when nearing the end of summer. There’s only so many hot designs to flaunt before the rest of The Capitol is found clad in similar styles. 

The jingling bell sounding from the door has Renjun’s head shooting up from his desk. It is a man, dashing and dapper as he walks into the shop. His eyes scan the interior lazily as if he’s deliberating his choice to stay. He gives Renjun a nod of recognition once he meets his eyes.

There is something familiar about him. Or on the contrary, unfamiliar. These are not the dazzling eyes of The Capitol people, Renjun would know. He has lived here all his life. These eyes are dull, no matter how hard they try to hide it. 

The man catches him staring but holds his gaze challengingly. He is young and close to Renjun’s age, beautiful golden skin that coats the structured bones of his face. 

It’s rare that Renjun gets to meet a past victor, often it's because they end up going back home to their own districts once the Games end. But he’s heard of a few victors who struck out an arrangement to stay in The Capitol instead. There are very few of them and most are Capitol sweethearts who milk out the most dough.

“I need a stylist and a suit tailored for an event. I was told you could help.” No Capitol accent and Renjun is positive he is correct. 

“Help I can.” He says belatedly. He offers him a kind smile and the man seems taken aback by it though he tries not to show it. 

“Renjun Huang,” the stranger says, testing the name on his lips when Renjun introduces himself. 

There is something quite odd that he likes about the stranger. His words are limited but his eyes are honest to a fault. 

“And you?” 

“Donghyuck Lee.”

  
  
  
  
  


There is something fascinating about the universe. It bends and ties and never breaks. It is without fault despite its flaws. There is much to be said about the universe in all its glory and mysteriousness but what Renjun finds most fascinating, he thinks, is that he’s able to find it in Jaemin’s dark orbs. 

His eyelashes tell time. When they droop Renjun knows it’s time for bed. When they flutter open and lie softly on his cheek, it's a new day. 

There is, however, a small interval in between when it's neither day or night and Renjun can’t tell the time. It’s when Jaemin’s lashes rest against the apples of his cheeks but his eyes hold so much intensity. Renjun tries not to shy away from his gaze. 

Maybe this is the only time he’ll listen. Despite thinking this, no words escape past Renjun’s lips.

He only stares back and swallows the endearment behind Jaemin’s eyes. He is not one to accept new ideas but he listens and for that Renjun has patience. 

  
  
  
  
  


Donghyuck and him are closer now. Much to Jaemin’s dismay.

They share similar ideas and it’s nice to talk about it with someone other than Jaemin for once. Donghyuck wouldn’t consider Renjun a friend but Renjun takes no offense to that. It gives him a reason to tease.

He opens his eyes to newer ideas, much bolder ones. The kind he sometimes hesitates confining Jaemin in and that leaves a sour taste in his mouth. They may not always agree but they never keep secrets. 

Donghyuck’s words are a dangerous thing. Talks of rebellion. His hatred for the Capitol people is as strong as his hatred for the system itself. Those thoughts could leave him with his head buried 6 ft under and Renjun knows this.

He is aware of the danger that follows for being affiliated with such thinking but he has hope. Hope in Donghyuck and hope that there is change. After all, the universe bends and ties, but it never, ever breaks. 

  
  
  
  
  


It is a bleak winter evening when Jaemin comes to him. 

Renjun is curled on their corduroy sofa right before a fire, the orange flames highlight his most prominent features. There is a book in his hand but he isn’t paying close enough attention to tell what point of the story he’s reading. He puts it away altogether when Jaemin’s breath greets his neck. 

The heat rushes down his spine when a warm hand envelopes the small of his back. They are a tangle of limbs, a push and a pull until they’re breathless and Renjun’s cheeks are a tinted rose. 

Blush patterns dance under his fingertips when he presses his hand to Jaemin’s cheek. He brings it lower and holds it close to his jugular to feel the pulse beneath his skin. 

Jaemin’s heart is a thumping beat in his ears. Often, Renjun wonders of its contents. He is not an easy person to read. Whenever he would ask, Jaemin’s answer would be simple—as if it was the easiest thing in the world. 

“You.” 

Renjun doesn’t doubt Jaemin keeps him in his heart safe and sound but there is more to it than that. He thinks, perhaps, Jaemin doesn’t know what lies in his heart either. 

There is a squeeze on his hip that brings him back to the present. He still has his head on Jaemin’s chest, both squeezed together on their couch. His head moves along to the chest beneath him, rising and falling to a rhythmic beat until it hitches. 

He can tell Jaemin is choosing his next set of words very carefully by the sound of his tongue darting out to wet at his lips. 

“You should stay away from him.” Jaemin’s words come out softer than usual and they're never an order. 

‘Him’ would be referring to Donghyuck, Renjun pieces it together. He knows he has no arguments. Donghyuck is a dangerous man with dangerous ideas. But they’re never wrong. 

“I know.”

“But you won’t.” Jaemin says a heartbeat later. He encourages Renjun to look him in the eye with the nudge to the shoulder. 

There’s a wavering flash of fear in them, something Renjun is unfamiliar with. Determination breeds and has made itself a home in Jaemin’s soul but it’s nowhere to be seen this time around. 

“I won’t. I believe in him.” 

Jaemin shuts his eyes and swallows the worry down his throat. It’s hard to see him so conflicted. He is a man of conviction. 

They stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms with nothing but the sparkling phantom of the fire to keep them warm. The creases on Jaemin’s forehead grow deeper by the minute and Renjun soothes it out with a warm palm to his head. This all feels too unfamiliar but does not go unwelcome. 

“I just don’t want to lose you, darling.” Jaemin finally admits, defeatedly. When he looks back at Renjun, he holds the universe in his eyes once again. They are sparkling in shaped jewels that rival the Capitol’s most prized gems. 

This time, it is Renjun that speaks with full conviction. 

“Then believe in me.” He says.

  
  
  
  
  


They have more conversations after that. Much deeper and well thought and Jaemin does more than just listen this time. 

He speaks to Donghyuck now too. It’s still a little weird for Renjun though he thinks they’re not so different from one another. They’re both stubborn and hot headed which often leaves him the most entertained in the room. 

Jaemin takes his time to understand and Renjun is with him every step of the way. They talk about everything now. The Capitol’s corruption, the murmurs of a rebellion and they keep no secrets. Renjun sees a glimpse of what lies in Jaemin’s heart and it leaves a warm feeling in his chest.

  
  
  
  
  


It’s spring again.

The smell of sweet flowers thickens up the air, new fashion roams the streets and the talk of an uprising reach the ears of those who are trustworthy. 

The silence no longer grapples his heart. Instead it is a warm embrace. An acknowledgment for the new tomorrow. This is a feeling Renjun does not know but he wishes to be familiar with it. 

The nightly spring breeze blows through their apartment and sends shivers down his spine. It carries the sweet smell of daisies blooming in the distance and burned fireworks that decorate the inked night sky. Him and Jaemin are both seated on the cushions lined along the large windows that overlook the streets below. Jaemin is peering past it to view the celebration of this year’s victor. 

This scene feels all too familiar. There is an absence of hesitation in the air. 

“We are monsters.” Renjun says, as to remind them. 

There is silence, sweet silence. Almost as sweet as the flowers that decorate the streets of Panem that night. When Jaemin looks back at him, there is not only guilt but hope. And for the first time, the presence of guilt in his eyes floods something quite akin to relief in Renjun’s veins. 

“I know.” Jaemin says. He stares back into the streets below, to the screens that play the deaths of every tribute in this year’s Games.

“We are worse.” He clarifies.

**Author's Note:**

> [main mh fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26025463/chapters/63283114)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/813na)   
>  [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/rensfilms)


End file.
